Last few days at Auroville

It is difficult to be almost torn between two beautiful places… one I am leaving and one I am going to. I don’t know if I am feeling excited or depressed. Both, I guess.. It’s weird though. I don’t take changes easily. I like continuity, not change. My mind spaces out and looks at what’s happening through a semi-transparent veil, at the same time struggling to take in as much as I can, of every second that’s left.

While I try not to think of what more I could have done, I try to think of what more I can do now, when I go back. I usually don’t realize what I have learnt, but I do remember, sometimes, how things change me. The changes have been going good… ☺

Some places stay with us long after we leave, making us feel incomplete, making us crave to get back. There are very few places like this, making us want to give back for what it has given us.

I have missed NID every single day during this time, knowing all this while that I’ll really miss this place too. Internship at Upasana, Auroville can be called as “close to perfection” in the language of a mind that drools with the thought of beads, scrap and craft. The most beautiful thing that I got out of this place is peace.

Can’t sum it up really, but wouldn’t want to put the beauty of my experience plainly…

Star gazing
Moon walking
Cycling at sunset on the red sand road

Beach mornings
Evening Movies
Feeling silence at the banyan tree

Gliding frogs and tiny lizards
Newfound pets, kichu and the dogs

Post lunch naps and tea break tripping
Off and on getting beady eyed
Little parties and lots of conversation
Walking barefeet in the “corporate” world

Three crazy pilgrims on a little bike
Trying to capture every single moment
Opening eyes to beautiful dreams
And minds to beautiful realities…. Possibilities…

I hope life brings me back here.

Perspective

Lying on the grass on Matrimandir gardens, Auroville during full moon....

I am suddenly aware of the vast horizontalness of this place and while lying down on the grass, looking at the moon, I change my perspectve. I feel like I am standing, leaning on the earth with the universe on my side, I feel like a tiny fly on a wall. The trees, buildings, all are just little bumps on the wall. There is so much more for a fly to see. And I start feeling a little detached to the earth and closer to the universe.

I am not flying, but I am in the sky.

Pondicherry Tripping

Ok, this was somewhere in Pondicherry where we saw something called "Jamai Ice Cream" and Neelam and I started tripping over it... Missing NID... missing the way we tripped over anything and would not be considered "weird". People here are too sane..
Anyway...

What is the premium section of Jamai ice cream called?
- Jamai Babu
What is the Super premium section called?
- Jamai Raja
What is Strawberry flavoured Jamai called?
- Jamai Laal
What is home delivery of theice cream called?
- Ghar Jamai
If you give a tip for the ice cream, what is it called?
- Dahej
What if you get the ice cream in marmalade and other flavours?
- "Jam"ai
What if the ice cream is distributed in a rock concert?
- "Jam"ai
What if the ice cream contains alcohol?
- Jaam ai
What happens if you eat too many ice creams and get a sore throat?
- Jam ai don't scream
What happens if a guy called Jamie has off white eyes?
- Jam ie eyes cream
What if a lake is frozen?
- Pond's cold cream

At Auroville, I am really at a risk of being sent for therapy... Need to get back to NID soon....

Auroville

There are no wicked witches here. Not the yellow brick road, but red sand winding path through this jungle. Poppy fields? Who knows.. Found opium incense though…

Alice has come to the Emerald city. Let’s see what we find along the way.
Ozoville…?
Weirder than expected, in some ways. A village where it takes more than a kilometer for a phone call or a local shop, we don’t go out after six as there are no streetlights; but people speak English and wi-fi is in the air.
I sometimes feel that this place is in a way, stuck somewhere in the middle of past, present and future, but is surviving and doing pretty well for itself. Fascinating. Auroville, the green forest that we see now, was made on a barren plateau and it powers itself largely on solar energy. I am constantly reminded of doing something in life that reaches beyond myself, and my doubts about doing something larger for the general good of the world and environment seem to fade a bit. This place is a symbol of hope for the environment and humanity.

When I finally went to Matrimandir, the experience was both extremely peaceful, yet a little scary for me. The ray of sunlight falling on the crystal, pure whiteness all around and Absolute Silence. I had never experienced such silence before. I could not hear anything outside of me. Nothing. That made me sharply aware of the sounds ringing in my ears. Three different pitches of loud ringing in my own head. How we lose track of ourselves in the outside world. The room had so much peace in it, that I realized that it is only my mind that needs to rest. By the end of the ten minutes, the ringing probably reduced, or maybe I got used to it. I wouldn’t know that until a few more visits to Matrimandir.
We have nothing else but ourselves to deal with.

I would describe Auroville as a place that gives hope and harmony. It’s beautiful, but that doesn’t make me miss college any less. As I struggle to type this on Neelam’s Mac, wishing it was Windows instead, thanking heavens for wi-fi; I count the number of days to get back to college. Almost a month.

Even though Alice likes the trip to Oz she really belongs to the Wonderland. She has the magic shoes to come back anytime she wants. And she’ll keep them safely.

There's always a next time...

reference to post: http://coolspice.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html

Going to pondicherry again... Was a little excited, read the post and now can't wait!
And ya, this time I going to Auroville... so finally I'll find the place :)
Hope to see a few sunrises..
And hope to learn to ride a bike without falling or hurting myself... ;) ok, that's too ambitious.. Ok, hope to overcome the fear of falling from a bicycle.. :)
Hoping to have a good time and not miss home or college too much...
Hoping to have an enriching experience... to do good work..
and not get too tanned ;)

Getting ready to say hello to Pondicherry again!

will be in touch...

List of lists...

List of incomplete work
List of CDs to write
List of things to sort out on the comp
List of things to take home
List of things to buy
List of things to get from home
List of things to eat when I get home
List of people to call up
List of places to visit, people to meet
List of things to do
Mostly I'll be lazing around with ice filled Rasna... :)

5 days to go for the jury... Going home on 18th.. :)

Jury Stress

I somehow feel sad about losing motivation to "work"; to do something great... I don't know who I am working or, them or myself?

I take a deep breath, close my eyes and drag myself into the killing heat of the studio. Work drags and everything is in slow motion.
I am not even worried about not finishing my garments; just spend each day doing something to fill the entire day, adding on slowly; painfully gradually.
I wait for the day to get over, at the same time fearing that time is slipping.

I can't figure out if I have risen above all this and become stoical, or whether my state of mind is a dormant volcano. It is the latter I fear.

Somehow, in all the heat and fatigue, it is easier to push the thoughts far back. Being a zombie is quite comfortable.

A new song fallen in love with. Learnt it by heart. Crackling sounds from damaged earphones. Damaged from rolling over while half-asleep, from being crushed in denim pockets..

Music is what's keeping me alive... sane...

Post-Trip

I am living two parallel existances; one routine life where I am trying to earn my bread and butter, live a worldly survival, and the other, where life has no meaning until my questions are answered.
To live between a life that has no meaning and a life where every moment has an aim is like having two parallel universes within myself. One does not let the other one survive, yet both exist together.
The problem with philosophy is that there are questions, but no answers. Yet we ask questions to ourselves and to others, hoping for answers, knowing, paradoxically, that answers don't exist. Yet. Just the way we keep on living, as a species, complete a lifespan and die, without really achieving anything beyond life. Yet we keep on living.. hoping for something bigger.
Yes, there is definitely a parallel between the two.
Everybody has their own key to existance, or life, or survival.
I keep alternating between the parallels because I haven't made my key. Yet.
And again here also, the hopeless hope of finding my key keeps my oscillations between the two parallels non-fatal.

Chai note

Discovered during the night mess - chai routine with Dawa: Why do the best works appear on "worst" places like tissues or the back of notebooks..? Because the mind is free, not under an obligation to make the paper look "good".

There is a book I have been reading - The Art of Looking Sideways. Kind of a mind refresher. Will talk about that sometime.. and will add more of the "chai" observations and discoveries...

Believe...?

Thoughts a few days back:
The biggest, most mindboggling question is: how do you believe in yourself? How is it that people get to believe in themselves? Isn't it the hardest thing to to? How can you just tell yourself to BELIEVE...isn't it like changing your religion?
I have been told time and again that unless you believe in yourself and believe what you do is right, you cannot get anywhere in life. Like Alice was told, if you don't know where you want to go, you will never get there anyway. But how do you know where you want to go?
Is there a way to find out? And how do you know that way is correct?
How can you FORCE self belief upon yourself?????

Thoughts yesterday:
Discovery made today: You start believing in yourself when there is no way out.
Just like people start believing in God when the need arises, the same thing applies to agnosts.
When life is normal, there is no NEED to believe in yourself; you start questioning yourself, doubting your own thoughts and actions, trying to be better than today. But when you have to stand alone, facing the world who is waiting to tear you apart, your only defense is self belief. To show others that nothing can happen to you, you have to show them that you stand up for yourself and you believe. Consequently the belief becomes real.
this somehow reminds me of something I read.. that suicide rates drop during war times and rises during peace days.

Afterthoughts:
Now I feel that probably belief is a temporary phase; it spurs up in moments of need. There is probably no such thing as a permanent, ingrained, deep rooted belief; just as there is no absolute.
The way I have started telling myself not to run looking for an "Absolute", I should probably not try to really find belief in myself.
Are people who believe in themselves constantly living in a state of gearing up to face the world?
What about yourself? How do you face yourself? Can the mirror tell you that your belief is an illusion created by you for survival? Can the mirror crack you heart?
Maybe the hardest thing is to see the mirror. That is why we probably look at it with half closed eyes, just to get a hazy picture without the close details... Somehow it is now making some sense...

p.s.: the "you" does not refer to anyone in particular, but to me.

Part one: Preparation for jury and disillusionment over work.. etc etc (3 weeks.. or more...)
Part two: Jury dates and members of jury panel announced (29th March 2007)
Part three: Night mess. (29th March 2007)

I don't make New Year resolutions. Probably because I know I wouldn't keep them for the entire year.. too much of commitment, I guess! My last year's resolution was to make a resolution. I don't remember any of those... This year I was thinking, that I would read a little more and write a little more. Reading started in December, with 'To Kill a Mockingbird', gifted by Mridul; and writing will probably show up here... in bits and pieces.. shreds of floating thoughts that I sometimes remember to catch.

Light

Someday I'll write about my experience at NID.. there's so much to it... But for now.. something I wrote for an assignment where we were expected to represent Light through probably a picture.... I couldnt get any picture, just ideas.. so this is it....

Particle or wave
Just pure energy
…Positivity.

What if the big bang was dark?
… the sun were a rock?
No seven horses; no chariots
No positive and negative
No yin and yang
Black wouldn’t be a colour
Everything would be nothing
And nothing would be everything

You bend and you dance
You bounce and shoot
You burst and spark
And break into colours

You heal and burn away
The wounds of surface and beyond

I know the world
Through the eyes that you see through
I know who I am
When I play to and fro with you

Life is
Because You are.

Who are you to the night?
Enemy or saviour…
Who are you to the shadow?
An elusive goddess…
Who are you to a blind man?
Nothing…?

Opening up old memories

Opening up old memories....

Written on 27th March 2003 1:30 am

Piles of paper rotting away
In the corner with cobwebs and dust
Secrets hidden in between
Hard work lost in all the rust

A part of your brain is left in there
You'll never use it, you gave it away

Old diaries growing old
Old memories dying away

Turn the pages and you'll hear smiles
Breathe in and you'll feel the tears
Your soulmate is turning yellow and weak
It listened to you all these years

So many nights spent to fill your mind
Writing, writing, memorizing
So many nights spent to empty your mind
Writing, writing, trying to forget

My favourite time of the year

Puja evenings and Garba nights. A hundred and eight diyas followed by countless more. Never before have I seen such an amazing mix of cultures where East meets West so beautifully, the way incense smoke dissolves in the air with the ascending dance. An absolute mismatch like the idol of Durga being taken on a camel cart reinforces the fact that different cultures can welcome each other when there is a common connecting link.

My favourite time of the year was the best this time.

I saw how it is possible to keep traditions alive… and how the passion to keep it alive and to celebrate grows when one is away from the roots. I saw that it is not necessary to believe, in order to feel part of the belief and to fall in love again with the beauty and grace of it.

Durga Puja at Navrangpura felt like home… it was just like what I grew up watching; the same idol ,the same drum beats and smoky scent, the same stalls, the same stage with little confused kids dancing while their parents prompt them….

Visarjan Night. Bid goodbye at Navrangpura and came to college for our own representation on cane. Fireworks on one side and drum beats on another. Faces coloured red with “sindoor”. I am surrounded by celebration. It’s amazing to be surrounded by the little divinity that we have created ourselves… Celebration on all sides, it’s like we are not celebrating, but it is happening and we are in the middle of it.

The “dhak” got spoilt so we couldn’t take it to the “visarjan”, but people in the slums at Sabarmati banks were playing drums and it was like Gujratis paying tribute to a Bengali ritual in their own way.

Celebration does not see you as an individual, but as a part of itself. It does not see who you are; it embraces you for being there. We can create our own divinity.

Smoke

Evening drizzle.. puddles and slush... chai at bmw... running for cover and not liking it... passive smoking... thoughts running through my head as usual while I try not to make the usual disgusted face when people around me smoke. It takes a long time to get used to people smoking around you, and even longer to understand why people smoke.

Anyway, this was written within 5 minutes at one go..

3rd July 2006; 7 pm.

You long for her
Cherish her
Hold her delicately
between your pretty fingers
Give her light
Look at her admiringly
You bring her to your lips
Kiss her
Exchange breaths
Hold on to her
till the end
Love her, thank her
for giving you few moments of
being ok.

And then you throw her
in the puddle
stamp on her
and walk away.

And she can't even
look back at you.
There's no goodbye.

Watchmakers are chauvinistic

Or that's what I ended up feeling when I went to buy a watch for myself.

First of all, women's watches are just too tiny to be practical; it's a watch, not a tiny delicate decorative string with a small bead on it!

Most of the women's watches have no numbers, or maybe just 6 and 12; we don't have 2 hour days, is that what they think? I mean how am I supposed to figure out the time, when I would waste so much time in locating where the minute hand and the hour hand are!

Also, I think watch manufacturers assume that women are gifted with night-vision lenses in their eyes, so our watches don't have lights unlike men's watches!

I was really irritated to see that men's watches were practical as well as aesthetically pleasing, but for women's watches, a compromise was made... And then I thought that I should buy a men's watch, but they are just too heavy!!!

I guess I'll have to use my cellphone to tell the time, for a while...

Blank

This is something I wrote when I was trying to sketch, but couldn't get any ideas, not even to doodle. My mind was absolutely BLANK.

The pure whiteness gives me a blank stare
Blank, spotless, but not untouched
Yelling whispers at me
To fill it up with my stories;
Confused imagination
But my mind is grey.

I have pierced through
The psychedelic kaleidoscope
Into the white tunnel of hopeless hope
But my harmony is lost.

The mirage of color eludes me now
Squares and spirals fade further away
What’s empty seems heavy with vacuum
I’m still waiting for a spark
to come my way.

State of mind

i am lazy
i am scared
i'm confused
i'm so unsure
i am self destructive

i think too much
i think too little
i don't know what
i want to know
i don't know what
i'm talking about

i am driven
demotivated

i am shallow
i am deep
i'm not awake
not asleep

i feel fine
i don't feel
i am numb
but not enough

i am shrinking
vaporising
sinking
but just not enough

i don't know what's going on
i don't know what to do
i'm in between worlds
can't cross the river

i am bad but not enough
i am good but not enough

i am not happy
i am not sad
i'm not sane
i am not mad

i am just not
enthusiastic enough to live...

Fog

This is something I wrote a few years back while travelling through the Delhi winter fog.

It’s like evaporated snow
Or white cotton candy

You are walking through
A never ending curtain

Glimpses of colour
Through white bridal veil

A pair of red eyes
Winks at me
And takes me
To the unknown place
I go everyday

Rain without drops
Stage without props
An empty portrait
Or cold smoke

Cataract in your eyes?!
Maybe your glasses are hazy

My childhood dream of
Touching the clouds
Has come true…

I am here

Ok. So finally I gave in. Started blogging.... Too lazy to make my own website again or too enthusiastic to share my thoughts.. or somewhere in between..?

Starting with some old stuff I wrote, maybe I'll add some new stuff.. if I can still write..
Who cares?

Here it is.